Medicine
by cantwebeseventeen
Summary: When Reid gets home late from the last case in "Jones", he struggles with his promise to Gideon to "never miss another flight". With help from Morgan and Hotch, can Reid beat Dilaudid, or is withdrawal just too hard to bear?


**Hello my pretties! More Criminal Minds! Of course, I own nothing as usual :)** **I hope you enjoy!**

Medicine

Reid arrived back at his apartment, rubbing his eyes from a long sleepless flight. It had been a long weekend. Turbulence plagued the jet ride home, eliminating any opportunity for sleep for anyone on the team. The case itself was trying, but then again, they all were. He closed the door behind him as he dropped his black carry-on by the wall, and walked to the couch, tan messenger bag still clinging on to his shoulder, weighing him down to a slouch. Of course, the weekend was also long for more personal reasons. He had snapped at his co-workers under the influence of drugs, he had purposefully missed the team's flight, he had dodged Prentiss' calls, and an old rival essentially pointed out his addiction. The question was, did the team really know? Ethan said they had to. They really didn't have much proof, and Reid was sure he was the only one who memorized the list of side-effects from Dilaudid. Ethan did seem to notice his shaking hands when they talked two days ago, a symptom not of the drug, but of mild withdrawal.

As he sat down, Reid peeled his bag off his shoulder, and set it by his feet. As he brought his hands up to rub his temples, he again noticed his hands. Shaking. It was much more noticeable than he had thought. Reid continued the motion to massage his head as he thought. _How long has it been?_ He tried to remember the last time he injected the liquid into his system. Normally, Reid was able to recount events to the exact second, but when Dilaudid took control, statistics meant nothing, and time was lost. _The morning? Yes, that sounds about right. The last time was this morning._ At the thought, Reid stopped. He observed his hands again. Still shaking, but admittedly more violent that they had been the other day. His brow furrowed. They have never gotten this bad. Or had he just not noticed? Reid had been able to go a day or maybe two without experiencing cravings, or noticing his shaking hands before. But for some reason tonight was different. It had only been a matter hours since his last fix, and he was already sweating, shaking, and battling a growing headache. Without even noticing, his eyes slipped to his camel colored bag at his feet.

However, something else happened that weekend. He had promised Gideon something. He promised never to miss another plane again. Whether or not to live up to that underscore of an oath was completely up to Reid, and the young genius knew that. I mean, it was only about a plane… right? Reid breathed in and closed his eyes. The darkness eased his throbbing forehead slightly, so he sat there, eyes closed, fingers tracing the stitching on the strap of his bag, as if he were petting a dog.

What stung the most, is the fact that he truly meant to keep that promise. At the time, Reid decided to quit using, for the sake of his job. The BAU was Reid's life, and he wasn't going to throw it all away for… this. Reid thought by this time tonight he'd be in bed, needles in the trash, vials in the toilet, and sleeping off the effects of the last dosage. What he didn't expect was the gnawing ache radiating his entire body, his brain forcing him to stay awake and crave relentlessly, every ounce of strength working to prevent his hand from easing its way into the bag's front pocket, and making it all go away. Making any worry, any fear, any memories, any statistics, any sadness… just disappear into nothingness. His constant flashbacks to those nights in Georgia, of Tobias… gone. Feeling guilty for his mother, his impending fear of her illness, the constant anxiousness of abandonment, the trillions of words and numbers and equations he's ever read in his life… all gone. Instead, just bliss in its purest form, void of any hesitations or limits. Relief from his mind, and from the rest of the world. That's what Reid thought about.

His mind reeled, giving in to the fancies of his ever-working brain. Without even stopping to deliberate, Reid's limber hand slipped into the pocket of his satchel. Out with it came two vials of Dilaudid, almost glowing from the reflection of the desk lamp behind it. As if on auto-pilot, Reid placed them on the table and opened the drawer in the small table next to his seat. Small needles awaited him, rolling around in response to Reid's quick yank of the handle, and out one came. He whipped around and retrieved one of the vials. As carefully as he could, his shaky fingers pulled the plunger so the clear liquid would fill it completely. In the rush of the moment, Reid was startled by the sound of a ringing from the table. As sweat beaded on his brow, Reid glanced at the phone. Morgan. As much as he hated himself for it, especially after the events that transpired the past few days, he hit ignore. The doctor rolled up his left sleeve, pulled off his belt, and hurriedly fashioned a tourniquet with his free hand. Another ring. Morgan. Reid puffed as he once again hit ignore, faster this time than the last. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve, and positioned the needle about an inch from his skin, which was decorated with prior injection marks, making his arm look like a game of connect-the-dots. Just before he could lower his hand to his skin, a voice erupted from outside the door.

"Reid!"

Reid's heart stopped. He whipped his head to the door, damp hair echoing his movement. There was a shadow interrupting the yellow light creeping under the door to the hallway. The voice he heard was Morgan's. Reid didn't move, hand still centimeters away from injecting the drug, a desperate part of him hoping that if he stayed absolutely still, Morgan would leave. "Reid! I know you're in there, I heard your phone ringing! Come on, kid what the hell is going on?!" Morgan bellowed. Reid caught his breath as he yanked away the anxious needle, unbuckled the belt around his arm, and gathered the scattered evidence from the coffee table. "Reid if you don't open this door right now, I swear I'll kick it down." Morgan threatened impatiently. Reid didn't think to answer. Out of panic, he placed the vials, the belt, and the needle down on the large island of his small open kitchen. He rolled down his sleeve as he ran to the door, which was visibly jerking as Morgan pounded on its surface.

"Reid!"

The door burst open.

"What Morgan?!" Reid said, panting. Morgan was visibly astounded by his appearance.

"Reid, you look like hell! You're sweating." It wasn't what he was going to lead off by saying, but it erupted at the sight of his disheveled and awfully sick looking friend.

"What do you want, Morgan?" Reid said sharply, the back of his right hand hitting the air, tense and questioning… and trembling.

"Reid, your hand's shaking man" he said accusingly, reaching out to grab it. Reid snatched it back instinctively. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

"The air conditioner broke and I haven't had my coffee. Happy? Can we get on with this please?" Reid lied. Well, half lied. He didn't have his coffee, but of course, that wasn't the reason for his tremors.

"Why aren't you answering your phone? And why did you miss that plane? And why have you been acting like you have a rod stuck up your ass for the last week or so?" Morgan pressed, each question more tense and aloof than the last. Reid rolled his eyes.

"Not this again. Morgan, it's been a long night, okay?" Reid deflected, trying to close the door.

"Reid, we've all noticed something's up with you. And if you don't start talking I'm going to have to go to Hotch." Morgan said, pushing the door back to its prior position.

Reid paused. The last thing he needed was Hotch finding out about this, or even just suspecting. He sighed. He softened his tone as he continued.

"Morgan, please. I'm not an infidel. I'm not a child. I can take care of myself. I'm just tired. We all are." Reid said calmly. He hoped the new approach would make Morgan ease up. It didn't.

"No, Reid. You aren't a child. A child knows when to ask for help. I don't know what it is you have going on, but it's obviously eating you alive, and if you demand to be treated like an adult, then you should start acting like one."

There was a pause. Reid closed his eyes, headache starting to emerge once again. What was he his father? Not like he would know…

"Goodbye, Morgan." He began closing the door.

Morgan stuck his foot in the door. He was prepared to continue lecturing the kid, until he caught a glimpse of something across the room. "What the hell are those?"

Before Reid had a chance to register, Morgan pushed past the fragile doctor. Dread filled in Reid's stomach as he turned around watching in slow motion, as his friend walked toward his secret, coming face to face with Reid's worst nightmare, and morbid reality. Morgan's back was all Reid could see as it raised and lowered steadily. The other side was staring down the tiny, tiny monster sitting quaintly on the counter. He seemed to be hovering over it for hours.

Morgan surveyed the display in front of him. The belt was unbuckled, and strewn across the various items. The needle was full, unused, plunger ready to be pushed. But it was the bottle that read "Dilaudid" that he picked up right away. He slowly turned around to Reid who was still sweating, despite the frigid temperature of the room... and now crying. Morgan displayed the glass bottle to the broken man standing across the room, who silently wept as each second trudged between them. "Reid?" he started, quiet and calm, but still stern. "Don't tell Hotch" was all the whimpering genius could mutter. He sounded like a small child. Morgan tried to start again, "Reid… Dilaudid?" he asked, more to himself than his friend. Morgan tried to wrap his mind around the fact that the young genius, Spencer Reid, was taking drugs, and he hadn't known. At a loss for words, Reid just shook his head in disbelief as he continued to openly weep in front of his co-worker.

Morgan put the vial back on the counter and began walking to the crumbling Dr. Reid, but Reid's attention was not on him, but the drug behind him. "This is what Tobias Hankel used?" he asked, already knowing the answer, just trying to evoke a response from the shaken kid. Reid, still staring at the attractive liquid, just nodded. "It's what he used to drug you?" he asked again. Nobody really talked about the Georgia experience afterwards, out of respect for Reid, so these questions were never really asked before. They all just assumed. It was then that the doctor spoke, "he said it would take the pain away… it did, Morgan". His voice was broken and trembling, much like a child. "It wasn't just once, was it?" Morgan asked, thinking back to the video feed of Reid calling out for Tobias to help him. Eyes still glued to the vial, he shook his head.

Morgan sighed. He looked at the kid's hands. They were shaking terribly now. "And of course, Dilaudid is highly addictive" he sighed, putting the pieces together in his mind. "This isn't your fault, but what I don't understand is why you didn't come to us" said Morgan, disappointed that his friend had been going through all of this alone. "I-I didn't want you to know" said the young genius, ashamed of himself. "I thought I could control it. I-I knew the proper dosage, the nutrients I needed to keep in check, the foods I should avoid…" he started, before Morgan interrupted. "Nobody can control a drug addiction, Reid. It doesn't matter if they have an IQ of 187 or 60. Drugs are drugs. Especially when you're addicted to a drug as potent and addictive as this one" Morgan insisted. Reid just nodded, rubbing his eyes while muttering "I know, I know, I know" over and over throughout his small speech. After a pause, Morgan took a step forward, "Reid… I need to see your arm".

And with those words, Reid's defenses were reawakened. His stomach lurched and he folded his arms, pressing his left one under his right tightly, as if Morgan would proceed to pry them apart. "No. No, Morgan, please don't" he pleaded, taking a step back. Morgan didn't advance on him, but instead, lay his hand out to accept Reid's arm. Reid glanced back at the Dilaudid still sitting on the counter, label still facing him so he could clearly read the words. He snapped his head to the side to look downwards, trying not to look at Morgan or the drug. "Reid" said Morgan, softly. Reid's eyes met Morgan's. As much as his mind resisted, Reid loosened his arms and placed his left out in front. After a second, his sleeve was rolled up again, and a small reflex went off in Reid, as if expecting a needle to be placed there shortly. Morgan breathed in sharply as he revealed the small red injection scars all over Reid's forearm.

Reid began to tear up again as Morgan let go and looked him square in the face. "When was the last time?" Morgan asked. Reid blinked hard as he once again tried to remember. "The morning", he concluded. "God Reid, and you're already suffering from this much withdrawal? It's hasn't even been a day and you're sweating bullets in a freezing room, your hands are trembling, and from the looks of it, you have a migraine" the agent sighed. Reid buried his head in his hands as he tried to ease the throbbing. "I promised Gideon I'd stop" Reid mustered, hands still hiding his eyes from Morgan's. "Hey, kid. It's going to be okay. We can fix this, but you have to let me help you" was his response. Reid lowered his hands, revealing more tears and dark circles under his eyes. There was a pause between them. Reid didn't want help, but now that his co-worker knew about the Dilaudid, he needed to accept some, for the sake of his job. As much as he wanted to send Morgan away, he nodded sheepishly.

"Alright. Tonight's going to be hard, pretty boy, but you'll get through it. I promise" said Morgan, trying to be more sensitive towards his hurting friend. There was no response from Reid. "Alright, come on. Sit down. We have some things to do first" he said, gesturing to the couch. Reid found his way to the seat he had left just moments before. Morgan walked to the counter, picked up every item, and disappeared into the bathroom. Reid followed the vials from the counter to the toilet, to the trash with his eyes, the pain in his head begging him to run after them. Morgan returned and stood in front of the slouched Reid, "Okay," he said, "I need you to tell me where the rest is, kid." Reid's eyes darted the floor, somewhat unwilling to answer the question and debating whether or not to lie.

"Reid, I need you to tell me now, because you won't have the will to tell me in half an hour" said Morgan. Reid sighed as he looked to the floor.

"The vials are in the front pocket of my messenger bag and the needles are in the first drawer of the side table" said Reid.

"Is that all?"

Silence.

"Reid?" Morgan pressed.

Silence.

"No" Reid blurted out.

Morgan didn't move, but waited for instruction. Reid rubbed his temples with his now violently shaking hands.

He made the decision.

"There are more vials in the sock drawer in my bedroom. Top left. "

To tell the truth.

"That's all there is" he continued.

Morgan nodded, recognizing the strength it took for his friend to reveal that information. He stepped forward to take Reid's bag. He collected the vials from the pocket, the needles from the drawer, then retreated to the bedroom to retrieve what remained. Reid's headache intensified suddenly and he winced in pain, bringing his hands to his eyes. He ran his fingers through his tangled damp curls and clenched them tightly. His stomach was twisting, causing him to shift indefinitely in his spot. In his mind, Reid listed off the symptoms of Dilaudid withdrawal over and over: _severe muscle pain, bone and joint pain, intense migraines, body cramping, nightmares, cold sweats, nausea, vomiting, restlessness, shaking, tremors, dysphoria…_

Morgan returned with a robe, pajamas and water. He was also holding a metal bowl, which made Reid swallow in disgust at what it meant. As if reading his mind, Morgan smiled a sorry smile and said "I told you, pretty boy, tonight is going to be hard." He handed Reid the pajamas and robe, placed the bowl on the floor next to the couch, and walked in the bedroom to retrieve a pillow and a blanket. Reid changed silently and quickly, every move painful and stiff. Morgan came back to the room minutes later. He sat down next to Reid, whose eyes were still swollen and pink from crying. He sighed, what he had to say next was not going to be easy to hear.

"Reid… I have to tell Hotch"

Reid's head snapped up.

"What?" he said in pitiful misbelief, "What, no! Morgan, I'll be fired! I'll lose my job. I can't lose my job. Morgan, the BAU is everything I have. Please, Morgan, please don't tell Hotch. P-please, I-I'll do anything."

The brunette began crying once more. He began to hyperventilate as his migraine intensified as he desperately yelled.

"Hey, hey kid! Stop. Calm down." Morgan insisted, grasping Reid. "You won't lose your job. Hotch would never fire you. You're the team's greatest asset. But he's your supervisor. He needs to know what's going on, that it's gotten to this point." Reid brought his hands to his head once more, clawing at his hair to try desperately to alleviate the pain. Morgan placed the pillow behind the doctor, and unfolded the blanket to place on top of him. Reid began to protest the idea yet again, when his stomach knotted up, causing him to lurch over the couch, and vomit into the bowl on the floor. Morgan sighed, pitying the poor genius. Reid sat back up slowly, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his robe, eyes screaming pain. Morgan handed him the water bottle and reached for his cell in his pocket. "It'll be okay, kid. You'll see" he said, standing up. He began dialing the phone as he walked back into the bedroom. Reid groaned as his stomach began to tighten once more.

"Hotchner" said Hotch, coldly.

"It's Morgan. I'm at Reid's apartment"

"How is he?"

"Not good, Hotch. You know the drug Tobias Hankel used in the Georgia case?"

"Dilaudid, yes" said Hotch with a pause. He could see where this was going.

"Kid's on it. Turns out it's what Tobias drugged him with when he was abducted. Used it to help the kid after his other personality beat him. Reid's been addicted ever since"

"Wow. Explains his behavior lately"

"Did you see this coming?"

"I had a suspicion. How bad is it?"

"Bad. It's only been a matter of hours since his last fix, and he's experiencing extremely painful withdrawal. I got rid of all the drugs, though."

"Good."

"Hotch… the kid's terrified of losing his job over this. I assured him it would be okay. Please tell me I'm right."

"Well, you know I can't promise that, Morgan. If it were up to me, of course not. You know I'd never fire Reid. It's really up to Strauss. The fact that he was introduced to it against his will, will definitely help his case. I doubt she'll fire him, but I comes down to the fact that he hasn't gotten help."

"He said he didn't want anybody to know."

"Of course he didn't" said Hotch. This was typical Reid behavior: hiding emotional issues. "I should come by to check on him."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? He's in really bad shape. I don't know if he'd want his boss to see him like this."

"If I'm going to be fighting Reid's case, I need to know what we're up against."

"Okay"

"I'll be right over"

Morgan came back to see a pale, panting Reid, itching his left forearm and twisting in pain. The bowl's contents were doubled. Morgan picked it up and emptied it in the kitchen sink as he spoke, "you need anything?" Reid closed his eyes as his stomach began to twist again. "Dilaudid" he moaned, half joking… half not. "Not going to happen kid, sorry" Morgan said with a slight smile. He continued, "I told Hotch. Says you'll most likely keep your job, although it will be up to Strauss. But this is Tobias' fault, not yours, you hear me?" he said. "He's coming to see you" he added. "No. No I d-don't want him to come" said Reid, breathing loudly to drown out his head. "Sorry, kid. He insisted on coming to check on you" Morgan responded. "I don't want him to s-see me like this" barked Reid, pausing his scratching fit to press his palms to his head. "You know Hotch… won't take no for an answer" said Morgan, turning off the sink. At the lack of a response, he turned to see Reid still convulsing on the couch. Morgan sighed. "Come on, boy genius, you should try to get some sleep" he said, turning on the water to wash out the empty bowl. "I can't" Reid managed, his eyes clenched tight as sweat trickled down his forehead. "Reid, you really should-" he tried, before being interrupted. "Can't without them" Reid hissed through his teeth, returning his hand to scratch his arm again.

Morgan looked with pity at the boy wriggling in his skin. _Whoa._ The kid couldn't sleep without drugs. "Come on, Reid. Yes you can. You just need to breathe, okay? If you try to relax-", Reid lifted his head to follow Morgan as we walked toward him, "Please. I just need enough to sleep. Not a lot. Just enough to get me to sleep. Please…Morgan, please" Reid breathlessly begged, doe eyed and helpless, still itching feverously. Morgan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Here was Dr. Spencer Reid, the smartest man Morgan had ever met: 3 PhD's, IQ of 187, eidetic memory… begging him for drugs. He wanted to make Reid's pain stop, but he knew there was no real way to. "Aw kid, you know I can't do that. Besides, it's all gone. I couldn't even if I wanted to" said Morgan, returning the bowl to its place on the floor. Reid sobbed at the sound of this, tensing up and scratching more furiously. "Hey, hey, hey" said Morgan, pulling Reid's hand away. His whole left arm was bright red, and Reid had scratched off a thin layer of dead skin. "Calm down, okay? Now you got to work with me if you want to get this over with" he continued, still holding Reid's right hand, which was shaking so violently it looked like it would fall off. Morgan put the back of his hand to Reid's forehead. "Alright, you're burning up, kid. I'll get a washcloth" said Morgan, walking to the bathroom.

As Morgan walked away, Reid's eyes caught sight of his messenger bag on the side of the coffee table. Looking back to make sure Morgan was truly gone, he slid his body further off the couch, and reached for his bag with his right arm. When he finally got a hold of it, he dragged it closer, and spilled its contents on the floor to see if Morgan had missed any vials. Out poured folders full of paperwork, pens, pencils, notebooks, doodles, Doctor Who figurines, glasses, and a crystal light packet in a pile on the floor. Reid rummaged with one hand through the mess, hoping he would recognize the cool glass on his fingers. He didn't. Morgan had cleaned them all out. In defeat, he curled back in position on the couch when he began to feel dizzy.

"Sorry, pretty boy. Cleaned them all out" said Morgan, coming to place the damp washcloth on Reid's head. "Was just looking for some gum" coughed Reid, flinching from the cold. "Uh-huh" said Morgan, raising an eyebrow at the obvious lie. "It's just medicine" grunted Reid, more to himself than to Morgan. "Now, you and I both know that's not true. Come on, aren't you supposed to be the smart one?" teased Morgan. "You know, studies show" started Reid, pausing to gasp at a muscle spasm, "that Dilaudid is 9.2 times more addictive than morphine, and 5.98 times stronger than heroin." Morgan sat down on the coffee table in front of Reid. "I believe you, kid". "What I mean is, due to the potency of the drug, it is much more affective to wean the abuser off of it, than to have them quit cold turkey" Reid continued, trying to sound like his usual self. "Even so, it hasn't even been a full day since the last time you took Dilaudid. The term "wean" doesn't mean giving in to every temptation" said Morgan, raising an eyebrow. The genius didn't respond, just continued to breathe heavily. There was a knock at the door. Morgan took a moment to look over his friend apologetically before walking to open it.

"Hey Hotch"

"Is he okay?" asked Hotch, still wearing his stern hard face. He was still standing in the hallway, not yet in the apartment.

"No" said Morgan bluntly. Hotch nodded.

"Understandable"

"Kid's in full detox mode. Complete withdrawal"

"That has to be painful"

"He's hanging in there. He has a fever, which is exacerbating his symptoms, but he's hanging in there." He opened the door for Hotch to step in. Hotch walked tentatively into the room. He couldn't see Reid, but could see his hair emerging from the arm of the long couch.

"Reid?" he asked, making his way around the sofa. He stopped when he saw the thin, sick creature laying broken on the sofa, eyes closed, but extremely awake. He sighed at the sight of him. Morgan stood behind him, observing the scene."Hi, Hotch" croaked Reid, eyes emerging for a split second to look at him, but closing immediately after, returning to their clamped position. She kneeled down to his level, to see his face up close. He was embarrassed that his boss had to see him in such a state. He was sweating profusely, and his normal dark circles were a burgundy color now, a mixture of exhaustion and withdrawal. "How are you?" he asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of the genius. He knew the answer, but he assumed it was the proper thing to ask. "I've been b-better" whispered Reid, through chattering teeth.

"He's shivering, Morgan. Should I get him another blanket?" asked Hotch, focusing hard on the shaking Reid. "We can't risk raising his body temperature any higher. He's one-o-three" said Morgan, not moving, but eyeing Reid as he twitched. "I can't go into a febrile seizure, then the hospital would have to find out about the Dilaudid, and tell the BAU" spurted Reid quickly. Morgan rolled his eyes. "Hotch" said Reid painfully, leaning over the couch a bit. "You need me to move?" asked Hotch, noticing he was hovering above the metal bowl on the floor. "Sorry" huffed Reid apologetically as he doubled over, Hotch hurriedly moving out of the way. He retched into the bowl, nothing escaping his lips but blood, stinging his throat as it trickled down. Hotch looked away, out of dignity for Reid, who was beyond embarrassed. Reid spit into the bowl, still coughing crimson, crevices of his lips coated red from the blood. He laid back down, panting with extreme exhaustion. Morgan quickly grabbed the bowl, and proceeded to rinse it in the kitchen. Hotch sat back down, feeling immense pity for his hurting employee, and friend.

"I-I'm going to lose my j-ob" breathed Reid. "Don't worry about that, Reid. I will do everything in my power to keep you at the BAU. We can't afford to lose you" he said, trying to reassure him. "But… Strauss" said Reid, closing his eyes. "Becoming addicted to a drug an unsub forced you to take is more than understandable. You're getting help. That's what matters. Granted, it would have been better for all of us if you had sought for it yourself, but this is better than nothing" Hotch insisted. Reid began to cry, as humiliating as it was. "This job is all I have, Hotch. The BAU is my family. What am I going to do?" he ranted, desperately trying to have every word heard through staggered breaths and dizzying cramps. "Stop, Reid. Right now you need to focus on getting better. Let me worry about the BAU" pressed Hotch, putting a hand on the trembling genius's shoulder. Morgan knelt next to Reid and handed him the bottle of water. He drank it quickly, despite it burning his throat. He handed it back to Morgan, who proceeded to put the bowl back in its place. Morgan and Hotch both stood up. "I should go. He needs rest… and so do you" said Hotch to Morgan, in reaction to his obvious tired eyes. Morgan half-smiled at the last comment. "What you're doing is greatly appreciated. He's lucky to have you" Hotch added, speaking quieter. "He'd do it for me" said Morgan, looking back at Reid. Hotch followed his glance to the doctor, who was still writhing. Reid looked up at Hotch with childlike eyes, desperately wishing that somehow, Hotch would produce the clear liquid from his pocket. Instead, he turned to him. "You are strong, Spencer. You are stronger than this. Don't let it win" he said authoritatively. Reid didn't respond, but blinked as if to say 'thank you' _._ Morgan walked Hotch out into the hallway. "Let me know if anything changes" said Hotch, turning to walk out. "I will" said Morgan, closing the door softly as not to aggravate Reid's headache. He pulled up a chair across from the genius. He looked at his watch. 3 AM. He stared at Reid, who was at this point, struggling hard to sleep. "What am I going to do with you, pretty boy?" Morgan said to the air. Reid didn't hear him.

The hours following were relatively quiet. Morgan stayed up, flipping through case files and listening to music. Reid managed to sleep in 20 minute intervals, each time like clockwork being awakened by a nightmare, nausea, or a spontaneous craving. It became a routine: 20 minutes of silence, followed by a loud heaving gasp for air, followed by vomiting, followed by hazy desperate begging. Morgan would have to relentlessly repeat to his friend, despite his pleas, that there was no more Dilaudid in the apartment. Reid would then force himself back into shallow sleep, and cycle would begin again. The hours were long, but they past, and both were able to make it through successfully.

In the coming weeks, Reid was allowed to walk home alone, something Morgan hadn't let him do in case Reid happened to stray by a pharmacy. He was also allowed to stay at the BAU, under the condition that he stay sober. "One slip up, Reid, and it's all over" he remembered Hotch warning him in his office, after having a long meeting with Strauss. Reid refused time off, believing it would call to much attention to the matter at hand. Instead, he threw himself into his work, as a reminder of how much his job meant to him. As the days passed, nobody questioned when Reid's hands would tremble, or when he often scratched his left arm, or when he would drink twice as much coffee on a bad day, or when he would carry a bottle of Advil wherever he went. Morgan and Hotch would merely exchange knowing glances. Reid improved, and went on to achieve his one year medallion. The embarrassment and pain from that night slowly faded, and years later, Reid considered it the luckiest night of his life. Reid believed he would forever be in debt to Morgan, who made the decision to walk up to his door, and knock.

 **Aaaaaaand that's it! Reid is my little nugget and I really think the writers didn't delve into this storyline enough. I really hope you liked it! I think I've worked longer on this fic than any other! If you like... PLEASE REVIEW! As Matthew Gray Gubler would say, love you my little pyschos :)**


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